You Want a Mistress I’m Already a Queen

I clutched the mangled bracelet in my fist.

I looked him dead in the eye. "My husband gave it to me."

My. Husband.

Those two words made Julian's face turn to stone.

"Your… husband?" he repeated, like he couldn't process the word.

"That's right."

Julian staggered back a step, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"You… you're with another man? You got married?"

"Is that so strange?"

"Of course it's strange!" Julian exploded, his voice echoing down the hall. "Two years! It's only been two years! How could you move on so fast—"

He stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Wait." Julian pulled out his phone. "Marcus," he barked into his phone. "Run a name for me. Angelo. An Italian. Find out who the hell he is."

He stepped away to make the call, his voice low.

A few minutes later, Julian hung up, his face even darker.

"Angelo?" He strode back, his eyes burning with rage. "Your new man's name is Angelo?"

I didn't correct him.

"A damn Italian bodyguard!" Julian spat. "You left me for a fucking bodyguard?"

Bodyguard.

If only he knew.

"Can he buy you diamonds?" Julian pointed at the broken bracelet in my hand. "Can he give you a Manhattan penthouse? Can he give you the life you deserve?"

"He gives me more than that."

"More?" Julian sneered. "What can some hired muscle give you? A cheap bracelet? A used car? A shitty little apartment in the suburbs?"

He was getting more and more agitated, spit flying from his mouth.

"Do you really think a man like that would marry you?" Julian's voice grew shrill. "He's just using you! When he gets tired of you, where will you go?"

"Julian, that's enough," Tiffany whispered, though her eyes were alight with excitement.

"It's not enough!" Julian whirled on her. "Do you see what she's doing? She's degrading herself!"

He turned back to me, roaring.

"I offered you the best life, the best future, and you chose a goddamn bodyguard!"

"Yes," I said calmly. "I chose him."

"Why?!" Julian screamed. "Why would you choose some lowlife—"

"Because he's twice the man you'll ever be."

The words hit him like a physical blow.

His face twisted into an ugly mask.

"You… you slept with him?"

I nodded.

"Of course. I told you, he's my husband."

Julian swayed on his feet, as if I'd punched him in the gut.

"How could you…" his voice trembled. "How could you let some low-class animal touch you?"

"Watch your mouth."

"I'll kill him!" Julian suddenly roared, his eyes bloodshot. "I'm going to find this Angelo, and I'm going to kill him with my own hands!"

"And then what?"

"Then?" Julian gasped for air. "Then I'll make you understand what a huge mistake you've made!"

He began pacing the hall like a caged animal.

"But for now—" he stopped, his eyes turning to ice. "Now, things have changed."

"What do you mean?"

"That Manhattan penthouse? Gone," Julian sneered. "You don't deserve it anymore."

"I never needed it."

"But I have another place for you. A quiet house outside the city." His voice dripped with malice. "No one will ever find you there."

A quiet house?

"Of course, to avoid any unnecessary trouble—" Julian straightened his tie. "You'll need to use the back entrance. You can't be seen. Understand?"

The back entrance.

He wanted me to sneak in through the back door.

Like a dirty secret.

He didn't even look at me. "My driver will pick you up next week." He turned to leave. "And, Sera? Use the back door. Remember your place."